For The Life Left Hanging
by BluemoonMusicGirl
Summary: Stranded in a world she cannot understand, Bree DeLune must find a way back to Neverland. She will team up with anyone necessary, do anything she can, to get back home to Peter and her friends, no matter the casualties along the way. If she gets there, however, things may not be as they once were. [Sequel to "For The Love Of The Demon"]
1. Prologue

**A/N: Take a deeeeeep breath. Smell that? THAT'S NEW CONTENT, BABY! Woooooooooo! It took a** ** _loooooooong_** **time to get this ready (mostly because the plot and characters didn't wanna work together), but it's _finally_ here! The highly requested, highly anticipated ****_sequel_** **of** ** _FTLOTD_** **! Are you excited? I'm excited! Be excited! Wheeeee! Here we go!**

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Hacking, gasping, salty water gurgled from my mouth, spilling over my chin. I took heaving draws of the air, noticing how alien and _w_ _rong_ it was compared to Neverland's. There was something almost metallic about it, something not unlike the tar one of Mama's friend's had brought from their grand adventures. It was a sickly sweet, brain-stabbing smell rolling in on the sea breeze that stirred my damp locks. Shivering, wounded and shocked, I collapsed against the beach just out of the way of the tide, finding comfort in the familiar feel of sand on my back, against my arms, sifting in my grasp. Something about the world didn't sound right either, I noticed. The waves made their usual crashing, frothing noise, and the night air stirred, muttering, but I felt unnerved. I tried to pinpoint what exactly made the night seem incorrect. Was it that odd whizzing, whooshing sound? The strange, flickering buzz? The appalling lack of insects humming? The sound of boats bumping the dock was certainly normal, as was the rain splattering the ground! I cocked my head, sitting up in a tangle of legs and sediment and clothes and cape, my weapons clinking their protest as I frowned, turning to face what might well have been the most frightening, perplexing sight in all my life.

Light. Tons of it. Millions of torches burning high in glass jars on pillars, illuminating the street I could see through the thick mass of boxes and nets on the dock and beach, thousands of little pinpricks wrapped around trees, hanging on the awnings of what I assumed were seafront shops. Mobile light that didn't flicker and sputter and burn like a flame. Metal in such abundance, some odd, hard, semi-pliable thing that seemed to be _everywhere_ , fabric in a dizzying array of colors, wood covered in thick color, large panes of glass all along the shops. Wetting my lips, I felt my brows pull together. This was _definitely_ not my land. Wherever I was, it was strange and dangerous and confusing as hell.

Shakily standing, I dusted as much of the wet muck off as I could, knowing it wouldn't make much of a difference. Gripping the hilt of a sparring dagger Alexander had shoved through my weapons belt, I began to head hesitantly towards this new world. _Where_ am _I?_ I internally screamed, wide eyes catching new and frightening things with every step. My feet hit wood planking, and I halted, glancing down at the arsenal strapped to me. It wouldn't do to meet the villagers here looking ready to attack. If I wanted help I needed to be approachable, weak, even. Biting my lip, I scanned the shore for a good hiding place and ran for it. _Alex would joke how I run so fast in sand. Fox would probably compliment me. Felix would say I need to stay where Peter said... Peter would say I better not fall..._ I angrily brushed at the tears threatening, pouring on a new dosage of speed, forcing all thoughts of the island from my head. This was _not_ like running from the Boys. This was _not_ another game. I was _stranded_ , it was _raining,_ and I was going to find my way back if it was _the last_ thing I ever did.

Skittering to a stop, I caught the edge of the rock pile, scratching my palms on the sharp edges. I peered into the dark hollow I had seen from afar, feeling around experimentally. Graciously, it was dry and free of animals. Reaching for the tie at my throat, I sank my teeth into my lip, biting down hard to help myself ignore the stabbing pain blooming in my chest. Carefully wrapping the weapons belt inside the cloak (taking care to not rip the fabric any), I hid the bundle in the alcove, snatching some driftwood from nearby and seaweed to weave a lid of sorts, shoving it inside to cover the hole. It wouldn't do much, but it would at least deter an animal from using my prized cloak as bedding or a bathroom. Gnawing at the inside of my lip, I slid Mama's dagger into the sheath in my boot and another under the back waistband of my pants, praying my shirt was loose enough to conceal the blade. While straightening the sopping mess that was my top, my fingers brushed over a small bulge in my pocket: Alex's gift. Curious, I fished the item out, jogging to a pillar-lamp and holding the gift up to the light. It was a tan-silver ring with an exquisite, polished labradorite in the center. My face softened as I ran my finger over the branches and feathers carved sparingly into the thick band, watching the way even the dull light from the not-a-lantern set the milky waves of the oval gem. A small ink-splotch of black in the gem's pattern made the light blues, deep navies, and mellow turquoises stand out. Pressing a kiss to the stone, I slid the ring onto my right index finger, the same way Alexander wore his twisted band of dark silver. Lifting my head to the sky, I scanned the heavens for a star that didn't fit, for one that shone too bright, that was a touch too big. None stuck out, though I whispered my gratitude all the same.

Shivering in the deluge, I headed into the freakish town, clamping my arms tight around myself. A chill had taken over the air along with the weather, but a small voice in the back of my head said it wasn't cold like him. It wasn't _his_ cold. It wasn't _my_ rain, _his_ storm clouds. It was a mundane, lifeless downpour, and it made me thirst for home even more. Clenching my jaw, I pinched my arm as I walked. _Snap out of it. Wake up. Wake up in the hut. In the tree, in the woods, in_ Winter _Woods, for all I care! Just stop this nightmare. **Wake up**. _

I made my way towards what appeared to be the center of the town, noticing the smooth stone on the streets that you'd never find in a village. I must've been close to a castle for them to have such nice shops and this smooth black thing for roads. Blinking droplets from my eyes, I stared suspiciously at a pair of glowing orange lights steadily growing closer. Tilting my head in wonder, I inched closer, narrowing my gaze to see through the sheets of heavy rain. The strange, low-to-the-ground coach sans-horses didn't slow or stop, it continued to barrel towards me until it was roughly twenty feet away, and this godawful noise split the air. It was like a door creaking repeatedly, quickly, mingled with the scraping of nails on a board. Covering my ears, I bent sideways, peering at the monstrosity from under my arm. A loud blare pealed from within the beast as it skidded, the back end throwing itself side to side. The metal contraption ground to a halt inches from me, leaving me breathless. I stared through a thick pane of glass at a woman. Her lips were harlot red, her hair jet black, smooth, and shoulder-length. A scowl darkened her face, lighting a rage behind her dark brown eyes. It reminded me of the Queen, the same arrogant toss to their heads, the same withering sneer as they snarled at peasants. Mama had said to steer clear of such people, that they would hurt anyone they saw fit to complete their cause.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" The woman snapped, storming to stand in front of me, slamming the door to what I assumed was her metal carriage. The black coat she wore was buckled at the waist, her shoes were a vivid red, and her skirt brushed her knees, hugging her thighs. I blushed, noticing that her shirt was also lower than would have been acceptable in my home. "This is a _road_. Cars go on it, people don't!" She gestured, mouth pursed. I noticed a scar on her upper lip. Had she been hurt as a child? Perhaps she fell while playing outside?

Taking a deep breath of the cold air, I blinked rapidly, dipping into a small curtsy. "I-I beg'n your pardon, miss. I'm lost. Could you help me, please?" My fingers laced together, twisting this way and that nervously. The woman's pout slowly smoothed into a smile, her eyes becoming warm but distant.

She pushed her hair back from her face with a twitch of her neck, hands slipping into her pockets. "Of course, dear. Pardon my rudeness, I was supposed to be home to see my son soon, and I feared I would be late. Where are you from?"

Swallowing the dry trepidation in my throat, I found a meek smile on my face. She wasn't so bad after all. "I'm not quite sure what you'd call it here, miss. King Henry ruled nearby, and King Leopold as well. To the south there was a large grassland, I believe, and we lived near a massive lake. It was a small village, but that's- that's not where I need to go." I shook my head, wetting my lips. At the mention of the kings her eyes went flat for a brief moment before regaining their gentle warmth and reservedness.

She gave another small curve of her lips. "And wherever shall you be going, dear? A small, pretty thing like you shouldn't be traveling alone. Where is your guard? Your soldiers? Family?" She cocked her head, dark eyes scanning me, noticing we were not dressed anywhere near similarly.

I hid a flinch, digging my nails into my palm to keep myself steady. "It's an island, miss. What family I have lives there, and I need to get back to them. I-I don't think you'd believe me if I told you the name, though. I doubt if you've even heard of it." I ducked my head slightly, tightening the embrace I was giving myself. Somehow, this woman's hair stayed dry, her eye makeup never running. Magic?

The stranger smiled kindly, head tilting the other way. "You'd be surprised. Go on, tell me." She waited patiently while I fidgeted, wishing the rain would stop. It was making memories surface much too strong, much too quick.

"Neverland."

Her eyebrows raised. "Neverland?" I nodded, daring to hope at the hint of disbelief and familiarity in her tone. She hummed softly. "Well, I suppose I could help. I'll need to know your name, child." She pointed out, guiding me to the other side of her metal beast, smoothing her expression.

"What's this thing?" I asked, pointing to the roof, not wanting to step into the monster's stomach.

She raised her chin slightly, eyes lighting with amusement. "It's a Benz." She grinned, slipping inside. I joined her, pulling the door shut for myself as she did. "It's like a carriage, but... not. It moves using an engine and the wheels. This one controls where it goes, the pedals say how fast, and the gear says if I'm parked or going straight or backwards." She faced forward, flicking a button that made large blades sweep the window. I pressed into the chair with wide eyes, marveling at this _Benz_. A Benz would've made life immensely easier in the village. "You can stay at my house, and I'll help you go home in the morning, how does that sound?"

I gave a nod of agreeance. "That would be lovely. Thank you very much, miss."

She waved away my worrying. "Not at all, dear. I'll get you some fresh clothes, some food, you can _shower..._ But you haven't told me your name yet. I'm Regina Mills, the mayor of Storybrooke." She flashed another grin, watching me from the corner of her eye.

Biting my tongue, I shifted uncomfortably in the seat, staring at the glowing contraption set in the front of her carriage. Should I tell her my real name? What if she wasn't as good as she seemed? Feeling the words stab at my heart and throat, I gave her a small smile. "Violet." She arched a brow, sweeping me with her gaze once more as she pulled a stick protruding from between us.

"Just Violet?" She prompted, maneuvering the Benz with ease through the damp streets of the sleeping town.

"Just Violet." I confirmed with a nod, staring out the side window, regretting getting water all over the inside of her carriage.

She pulled into a drive leading up to a manor, 'parking' the Benz in front of it. I gaped up at the looming house, flabbergasted. Miss Mills exited the car, a strange fabric contraption with a metal skeleton opened above her to block the rain. "Well, Violet," She smirked in a way that made me hesitate in leaving the carriage, opening my door and holding the large water-deflector over us both. "Welcome to Storybrooke."

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 **A/N: Mwuahahaha! Can you feel it? This is gonna be a good one. I'm literally bouncing in my seat, I'm so flippin' excited! Yay for Regina! Tear for Bree. Is she in good hands -or _not_?! You don't know yet. * More evil laughing * But, for real, I'm so pumped for this story. Many many people requested a sequel first, and here it is! Now, since this is fanfiction (duh, cause I only own my OCs), it is going to be a bit different from the actual show story line, plot, etc. Things are gonna be changed, so please don't kill me for it. This one is a bit short, but, after all, it is a prologue. A little toss to get the ball rollin', you could say. As always, please, please, _please_ leave a review. They are the pixie dust of my writing, ie: they get the miracles working. Thank you for reading! Bluemoon, over and out~**


	2. Chapter 1: Welcome to Storybrooke

**A/N: NOT DEAD! Allow me to explain, please. The screen of my laptop has been broken for two or three years, but I had it hooked up to a desktop screen so I could work. About a month or two ago, I had to give the desktop to my brother so he could do homework (because practically _everything_ is done online now). I'm hoping to get a new laptop for Christmas, but I'm broke as all get out, so we'll see what happens. I'm typing this on a dinky little tablet thingy right now, and it's driving me up the wall, but I've been feeling really guilty about leaving you guys out to dry with no word and no chapter, so here I am! Just a heads up, there _will_ be typos, without a doubt, because this thing doesn't autocorrect or even tell me if something's spelled wrong. So, just call 'em if you see 'em, and I will (hopefully) get them fixed ASAP.**

 **All well, here's the next chapter for you lovelies! Sorry it took so long! I'm probably just gonna call it and say I'll update sometime at least once a month when I get my new computer, but, until then, I can't make any promises. Also, apologies if the characters are a bit OOC, I haven't watched the show in a while. This story has a plot-line of its own and does not follow the Season 2B-Forward plot of _OUAT_. There may be a scene here and there, and I'll notify you all in advance in the AN if that's the case. Again, thank you everyone so so much for your support. When I started this, I'd never in a million years have thought it would have come this far. Chapter One!**

 **DISCLAIMER: _I DO NOT OWN_ OUAT _OR ANY CHARACTERS THEREIN. THEY ALL BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS._ I'm just screwing around with them and seeing what happens.**

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The manor was glorious. I counted eight windows on just the front, and there were pillars in a semi-circle guarding the entrance. Stepping across the threshold was like stepping into a small castle with double the majesty and class. I hesitated in the doorway, not wanting to drip all over her glossy hardwood floors. The woman began removing her still-dry coat, hanging it carefully in a closet by the door. Just a few feet away stood the entrance to another area, a squeaky-clean white staircase like I'd never seen before running up the right side of the room.

Flashing me a smile, Regina waved me forward. "Come in, dear. There's nothing to be afraid of. Let's get you some clean clothes and a shower -or bath, if you prefer?" She offered over her shoulder, smile still in place as she lead me up the stairs. I gripped the railing tightly, doing my very best not to fall as I stared in awe at the simple elegance of the house. With a graceful ease, she showed me to the lavatory, explaining how to use the knobs and 'sink' and 'toothpaste'. When I inquired about the strange tube she explained it was like rubbing mint and cinnamon on your teeth with a stiff brush to clean them only gentler and safer. She left me to my own devices after laying out towels and a spare brush, going to inform her son about my staying and to find clothes. I thanked her, blushing slightly. I was always uncomfortable with extreme generosity and favors.

Sitting on the toilet lid, I peeled my boots and socks off, wiggling out of my cargoes with difficulty. Carefully, I folded my clothing, setting it in a pile on top of what I thought was a laundry basket. Removing my weapons and sheaths, I glanced around for a place to hide them. Settling on the cabinet underneath the sink, I tucked the items in the far back under flimsy bags and a few baskets made of that same colored material as before. Cautiously, I experimented with the knobs on the 'shower', nearly leaping out of my skin as the strange nozzle splashed me. Narrowing my eyes in irritation, I rubbed at my chilled arms, trying the bath instead to similar results. Blowing out a frustrated sigh, I shut my eyes, hands aimed at the piping. "I wish the water was warm." I murmured, wetting my lips and waiting patiently. Nothing happened for a few tense moments. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, spreading my fingers wider. "I wish the water was _warm._ " I commanded, feeling the energy flow from my palms in a rush, seeping into the walls alongside my frustration while my head pounded with nausea. After a few tense seconds, a steady stream of perfection came from the overhead nozzle, spraying me generously. Smiling, I felt a small burst of satisfaction and pride. I could almost hear Peter commenting on how well I was doing, offering congratulations that I hadn't fainted if he was in a teasing mood. Blinking hard, I brushed away the fond, painful thoughts, setting about the mindless task of cleaning myself.

Sand had been spread thickly through my hair, salt from the water making the already waving strands a mess. Rubbing copious amounts of rose soap over my skin, I washed away the night's abandonment and fear, relaxing now that I was somewhere safe instead of on the streets with no knowledge of the world. I took care massaging away the ache in my skull. Maybe magic was harder to access here. After the shower I dried in fluffy towels, finding a set of clothing where mine had been.

The materials felt foreign and wrong beneath my fingers, hanging oddly over my shoulders, the pants were soft and fluffy, patterned with rainbow spots. A fresh pair of underthings had been left for me with plush socks, which I gratefully slipped on. I took the time to brush out my hair, carefully twisting it into a braid and tying it off with a strip of cloth before I left the cozy room. Checking that my weapons were still in place, I exited the wash room. "Hello...?" I called curiously, glancing up and down the hall. With barely a heartbeat passed, Regina appeared downstairs, smiling at me.

"Feel better? I thought you might be hungry. Come into the kitchen, I'll fix you something." She spoke softly, as if not wanting to wake someone. Quietly, I picked my way down the steps, noticing that the floor was dry when it should have been slick with grit and rain. "What sort of foods do they eat on Neverland, Violet?" She questioned, head buried in a strange, silver, humming rectangle billowing cold drafts.

The name was a knife in my gut. It took a moment for me to focus, words coming slowly. "I- uhm... Apples? Soup, mostly. Grapes, grapes, too. Uh..." I blushed as she nodded. I wasn't usually around at meal times, so I was running off what I remembered from the food I had been given. "The Boys would hunt deer, sometimes. That's where a lot of our food came from, the animals. I used to find nuts and things, as well." I noticed her perk slightly as I mentioned the other inhabitants, though she said nothing.

Kindly, Regina gave a warm grin. "Well, that all seems very reasonable. I'm sure we have plenty of apples, if you'd want one. Do you drink milk or water, Violet?"

I balked. Milk was hard to get if you didn't have a cow, and even then it was saved for special occasions if you weren't turning it to cheese or butter or selling it. "W-Water, if you please." I mumbled, blinking to try and bring my brain back to life. She dipped her head in a nod, striding to a set of double doors and pulling them open, slipping inside. Regina reappeared carrying a loaf of fresh bread, bringing it with her and setting it on the counter with the butter and knife lain out. I noticed she wore a pair of heeled shoes.

"Tuck in. I'll get you some water and the rest of dinner." I whispered my gratitude, slathering a slice and stifling a moan as the tastes mingled on my tongue. It reminded me of the village, of mother's hours spent laboring in the kitchen, flooding the house with delectable scents. As I started in on a second piece, realizing how positively _famished_ I was, Regina slid a plate of cheeses and grapes to me with a small bowl of various nuts, adding an apple to the small pile. "You're bone-thin, dear." She insisted at my wide eyed stare. "Eat. There's plenty to go around. I'm not sure how well stocked Neverland is, but you can have all you'd like here. Food is very easy to come by."

Hesitantly, I nodded, blushing as I layered cheese and grapes onto a slice of bread. "How long have you been on Neverland, Violet?" She questioned, sipping a bitter-smelling brew from a mug.

Swallowing my handful of nuts and apple, I frowned slightly, responding to the name on instinct now. "I'm not quite certain, miss. A few days? Maybe a couple weeks?" I lied easily, not wanting her to think I was terribly important in case she wasn't as friendly as she seemed. "Time doesn't move there in the conventional sense. It runs on its own clock." Her eyes sparkled with interest, not noticing the fib.

"When did you go to Neverland, Violet? How old were you?" She snagged a grape from my plate, watching me intently. I downed a gulp of water. Was this polite conversation or an interrogation?

"I had just turned seventeen, miss. It would've been a tad past midnight on the seventeenth of April." I answered honestly, seeing no reason to cover up that fact. Another bite of apple, another question. I kept close track of the queries and answers, making sure to not seem suspicious.

Surprise lit her eyes. "Do you remember the year?"

I shook my head no regretfully, finishing off my apple. "Things like that weren't important in my village, miss."

She took another long drag of the blackish-brown drink, nodding. "Was there magic in your home, Violet? On Neverland?" I hesitated, pretending to be deep in thought as I ate the last of the cheese, wrapping it around grapes and nuts.

Giving a small bob of my head, I swallowed. "Some." Her eyes darkened a fraction, noticing I wasn't as open now. Calmly, I added, "A place like Neverland has to be magic, though, doesn't it? It couldn't exist otherwise." I flashed an innocent smile, receiving a forced one from Miss Mills. She refilled my empty glass and hers, back to me.

Her voice remained neutral, though I could tell she was beginning to become vexed. "And how did you happen to come here to Storybrooke, Violet? Must be one heck of a story..."

Plucking at the odd shirt-fabric, I kept my head ducked, pretending to focus wholly on the impeccable hemline. "It is quite the tale, but, if you don't mind, Miss Mills, I'm very tired. I haven't slept well in months..." I added a faint hunch to my shoulders, eyes widened childishly with worry as I peeked up at her.

She quickly shot me a smile, scooping up the dishware. "Of course, how silly of me. You must be exhausted, dear. I'll show you to your room. We can figure out where you'll stay till arrangements can be made to take you back to Neverland in the morning after breakfast. How does that sound?"

"That would be lovely, thank you." I blushed slightly, knowing she didn't believe me entirely. I slid off the stool, following her up the stairs to a spare bedroom.

"Here we are," She sighed airily, flicking on the light. It was a simple room, clean and welcoming. "This should do nicely. I'll leave you to it, then. Come get me if you need anything." She exited with a small smile as I dipped my head gratefully.

Gradually, I relaxed. Though odd, the clothing was comfortable, the room was warm, and the bed was firm but swathed in thick, soft blankets. It felt like lifetimes ago since I had slept in an actual bed. I burrowed into the snug coverings, rolling onto my stomach and drifting off peacefully. Nothing could harm me here, surely. It was a mundane town (albeit a strange one), without Shadows or pirates or faeries or ghosts. I was heartbroken but alive, safe. Peter just needed time, I reasoned, time to fix the island, to regain total control over his subjects. He would come for me when the time was right, when things were safer.

* * *

A soft knock on the door roused me alongside the gentle morning light seeping through the curtains. For a moment I forgot where I was, gripped by panic. My dream had felt eerily real, and it left me aching all over, a vicious hole torn in my chest where my heart was. Scrunching my face, I took deep breaths, easing out of the bed precariously.

I had been home, but the island was twisted. Something wasn't right. Something had gone horribly wrong, and it made my return to Neverland all the more urgent. The skies had been bleak, the air thick with tension and fear, the trees sickly and dark. I had felt the trepidation that soaked the ground enveloping me with every step, nearly suffocating me. There was no sign of the wildlife, no tracks or rustles in the underbrush. There was no smoke from a bonfire in the sky and no whoops of cheer from a hunting party in the air. The island seemed barren, abandoned and ramshackle.

Shaking off the after-effects of the nightmare, I answered the door sleepily, not noticing the window was opened a few inches, as if it had been shut hurriedly. "Hello?"

Regina stood in the hall wearing a bright red smile and simple charcoal pants with a strange kind of shrug-like cloak that reached her hips and was straight, like a second, larger button-up shirt that men in court sometimes wore, and white shirt. She later informed me the outfit was called a suit and the item in question a blazer. "Good morning, Violet. I thought we could go around town today, meet a few people and get you familiarized with the place. I've brought you some clean clothes, and you can get ready in the bathroom down the hall." She seemed less agitated than the night before, eager to help me adjust to life in Storybrooke. Thanking her, I padded down the hall to the bathroom, washing my face and pulling the brush laid out through my thick waves till they were soft to the touch once more. The 'toothbrush and paste' from last night were still poised on the sink, and I scrubbed my teeth vigorously, loving the cleanliness of it. Discarding what Regina called 'pajamas', I tugged on a pair of pants made of a decently-weighted dark blue material that hugged my curves and flared out at the bottom just enough to fit over my boots. It wasn't the softest thing in the world, but it felt more right than the fuzzy bottoms had. The shirt she had left me was simple and gray with clean-cut sleeves and hems.

Apprehensively, I checked under the cabinet for my weapons, breathing a sigh of relief when my fingers touched cool metal. Quickly, I pulled them out, slipping Mother's dagger into my boot and the spare into my waistband, running my thumb over Alexander's gift absently. The ring had more weight to it than it appeared, but it was reassuring. Straightening my back, I found Regina waiting at the front door, wrapped in a simple black 'trench coat', as she called it. "Ready? I'll buy you breakfast at Granny's, and then the sheriff will show you around town some. I have to run to the newspaper office, and Henry needs to get to school."

"Henry?" I questioned as she helped me slip into a black 'zip-up' that cinched at the waist with pockets, and gray-black speckled sleeves and hood.

Locking the door behind us, she flashed another smile. "My son. He's sleeping still, and I didn't want to wake him." I nodded, shoving my cold hands into the pockets, marveling at the strange items that littered every inch of this world. "While you're around it'd be best to keep quiet about the details of your situation, how you got here, things like that. The town's relatively small, so you can walk just about anywhere if you feel so inclined. I prefer to drive, but Granny's isn't that far." She explained, starting off down the road. I followed her, watching anxiously as the people we passed shot us curious, suspicious glances.

Regina strode confidently up to a cozy building surrounded by green fencing with a large red sign displayed above that read: 'GRANNY"S DINER'. I followed tentatively, still unaccustomed to the bright lights and colors of the town. A bell chimed overhead as we entered, alerting the patrons to our presence. "Do you like hot chocolate?" Regina prompted as we came towards the counter.

"What is it?" I responded, nose wrinkling slightly. The old woman behind the bar appraised me, brow arched.

Pursing her lips slightly and shooting a glare at the woman, Regina gave a bland smile. "One hot chocolate, whipped cream, two apple pancakes with butter. I'll pay now." She spoke quickly, not bothering to waste time with pleasantries as she handed over a few crisp pieces of green paper, flicking her dark hair out of her eyes. I blushed, hiding further into my coat as the woman tapped out the order onto a machine that dinged, spitting open a drawer. As she called over her shoulder the items, a blonde in a maroon jacket stepped inside, striding over to us. Her blue eyes seemed half-closed, like she was both tired and unamused.

"Madame Mayor." She greeted with a hint of sarcasm, not in the least bit ruffled.

Regina showed no sign of annoyance at the nickname other than a faint downward curve to her mouth. "Miss Swan," She replied as if used to the teasing. "This is Violet. I need you to help familiarize her with the town today and show her around. Introduce her to people."

The sheriff glanced at me, sizing me up. "And what are you doing today, Regina?" She countered with that same small grin, enjoying pressing the other woman's buttons.

Sighing, the mayor gave a stiff smile. "Something's come up at _The Mirror_ , and Sydney asked me to come help with a few things." She kept an even stare, waiting for the blonde to agree to help.

Giving a nod, the sheriff slid onto a seat at the bar, giving her order politely before turning to me. Regina left after reminding me to come back to her home later so we could work out housing arrangements. I took the seat beside the blonde cautiously, offering a small smile. "I'm Violet, it's nice to meet you." I stuck my hand out.

She took it, grinning. "Emma." A leggy girl in teetering red heels slid the food Regina had ordered to me, leaning on the counter and shooting the pair of us a smirk.

"How's it going, Emma?" She began conversationally, flipping her long brown hair back. A section was stained a deep red.

Narrowing her eyes slightly in mock mistrust, Emma answered. "Just fine, Ruby. You?"

"Oh, I'm great, yeah." The girl replied, flashing a grin. "Who's this?" She turned to me, eyes bright.

Biting my lip, I held my hand out again. "I'm Violet. I've just arrived last night."

She shook my hand, giggling. "Yeah? You're staying with Regina, then?" She prompted, face openly curious. Something about the way she said it told me it was very unorthodox for the mayor to have strangers in her house.

"I'm not sure yet. She says she's going to help get me home, but in the mean time she's asked Emma to show me the town." I responded nervously, taking a bite of the 'pancake'. It tasted surprisingly good, flavorful and warm. The drink was delicious and hot, burning my tongue in a pleasant way. The flavor was one I had only tasted once in my life many years ago, and the white fluffy topping was rich.

Ruby grinned, face falling slightly as a man with dirty blonde hair entered the diner, offering her a small wave. Noticing the strange bag he carried, I furrowed my brow. "Who's that?"

"That's Dr. Whale, the leading physician at Storybrooke General Hospital." Ruby informed me with a tight-lipped smile. "He's quite the womanizer. Steer clear, sister." She winked, straightening up as the old woman she called 'Granny' prompted her to stop socializing and get to work taking orders. I poked at my pancakes some, eating another few bites. My stomach couldn't handle much after not eating so often on Neverland.

Emma took a few sips of her hot chocolate with cinnamon, clearly thinking. "What all has Regina told you about the town, Violet?"

Swallowing a bite, I shrugged. "Not much, really. Just that it's called Storybrooke, that she's the mayor, you're the sheriff, and that it's relatively small." I listed plainly, watching her from the corner of my eye as I ate.

She nodded, taking another gulp of her drink. "Where are you from Violet?"

Cautious, I glanced at her then my plate. "I don't know if I should tell."

"You can trust me," Emma promised, tilting her head to the side. "But just know that I have a superpower. I can tell when people are lying."

Arching a brow, I took another bite, sipping my drink. "Is that so?" This place got more and more strange the longer I was in it. Emma bobbed her head, finishing off her drink. "Well," I sighed, pushing away the empty plate, glad I hadn't wasted any but wishing I had at the same time, as my stomach was stuffed. "I suppose I'll have to tell you then. I came from Neverland." I replied as we walked out into the chilly air, making sure to keep my voice low.

Her brows raised as she shot me a look, doubting the words in a way Regina hadn't. " _Really?_ " She deadpanned, leading me down the street. I nodded once, taking note of the signs along the shops in case I had to find my way back alone. "Neverland? As in Peter Pan, Mr. Green Tights himself?"

Frowning, I shook my head. "Peter doesn't wear tights. Where would you hear something like that?" She rolled her cool blue eyes, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"From pretty much every story of him I ever heard as a kid?" She prompted, like it should've been obvious. "And if you're telling the truth about your name, you aren't in them." She added, waving back to a man with a dark-haired woman on his arm. "That's Mary Margaret and David, my parents."

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, ignoring the comment. "You all look the same age." I pointed out as we entered a 'pawn shop'.

She shrugged. "That's a long and complicated story. Gold!" Emma called, walking up to the counter, glancing around. I peered into a display case, the edges of my mouth curving upwards gently. The room was dimly lit but had a sense of warmth and importance, laden with centuries worth of antiques that I itched to hold and marvel at up close.

"Despite what you may think, I'm not at your beck and call, dearie." A voice sighed, emerging from a back room. A slight shiver ran down my spine as I spun, staring at the man. He was older, wearing a simple black suit and carrying a sleek cane. His greying hair fell in his face slightly, and his sharp eyes swept over me. "Who might this be?" He turned expectantly to Emma.

Calmly, she gestured me closer. "Gold, this is Violet. She's new in town." Some strange thrill of fear struck me as the odd man stared at me, like he could blast me to smithereens with a wave of his hand.

"Clearly..." He whispered, more to himself than anything. It reminded me of Peter mumbling to Felix. I blinked hard to disperse the illusion. There was no way this man could be connected to Neverland. He was a grown up in a land that seemed to be without magic.

Blushing in embarrassment, I dipped into a curtsy, blinking away the shudder of familiarity I felt. "Hello, sir." I mumbled, averting my gaze to the display case in front of us.

He took a moment to analyze me further, giving a small bow in response. "And what, pray tell, is so urgent that you felt the need to barge into my shop before business hours, Miss Swan?" He turned his dark brown gaze on the other woman, and she returned the stare unflinchingly. Sensing this wasn't a conversation I was meant to partake in, I wandered to the other side counter, eyes darting over the many items displayed hungrily while I perked my ears.

In a hushed voice, Emma leaned forward. "She says she's from Neverland. Is that possible?"

I picked up a small gold jewelry box encrusted with teal gemstones, smiling faintly. In the bottom was a slot about the size of a nickel. Maybe it was a music box?

"She couldn't be from there _originally,_ but it's possible she came here _from_ there." He replied, shifting a stack of papers. "Is that all?"

"No,"Emma growled, slightly irritated. "That's not all. How did she get here from there, then? Regina apparently told her she'd get her back to Neverland. Is _that_ possible, or is she lying to her?"

Interested, I set the box back down, shifting closer quietly and peering through items on a shelf to watch the older man's face.

"I don't know _how_ she got here. I doubt even Regina knows, but I'm willing to bet she had help. Traveling between worlds is risky business, and it's extremely difficult. Only a very powerful magical being can master it." I felt a burst of pride. Peter traveled dimensions all the time rescuing orphans and the likes, even if his motives for doing so were a tad skewed. "Regina is powerful, but I doubt she'd go out of her way to help a stranger she just met. It isn't like her." Emma nodded, frowning slightly. "If she's finding a way, it'll be for her own personal gain. You better keep a close eye on that girl, Miss Swan. There's definitely more to her than meets the eye."

I took careful steps to the corner of the shop, knowing they were saying their goodbyes. Admiring a golden medallion with a cloud and lightning bolt on it, I waited for Emma to call to me. We exited the store together, and I gave another curtsy to the owner. He bowed again, a hint of curiosity in his eyes now as he watched us go. "So, kid," Emma smiled as if she hadn't just been talking about me. "Where do you wanna go? The docks? The animal shelter? Library? Take your pick."

I wandered briefly what an animal shelter was, but then I remembered my weapons on the beach. If I wanted to use them ever again I'd need to know how to get to them first. "The docks sound nice." I ventured, returning her grin.

She nodded, gesturing that we were turning right. "Okay, then. The docks it is!"

* * *

"There isn't much to see, I'm afraid." The blonde apologized as we stood on the creaking boardwalk. I shut my eyes, basking in the sunlight and taking deep breaths of the ocean air. Instantly, I felt safer. We were away from the hustle of the main town and the crowds. I didn't need to worry if I was speaking correctly or if what I said would tip someone off. It smelled like the beaches on Neverland with an undertone of wet timber and fish.

"It's perfect." I murmured, grinning. Blinking, I sheilded my gaze, squinting at a ship that was coming into harbor. A jolt of hope soared in my chest, and then I was sprinting with Emma trying to keep up, asking what was wrong. Skittering to a halt, I dug my nails into a post coming up from the dock, staring with wide eyes at the ship as it creaked to a halt. My heart sank, and I shot an apologetic grin at the sheriff. "I'm sorry, I thought- Nevermind. It doesn't matter. Could we just walk along the beach for a bit? It-" I ducked my head, praying I could tap into her pity. "It reminds me of home, of Neverland."

Giving me an odd look, she nodded, waving that I should lead the way. I picked my way amoungst rocks and debris, gaze scanning everything in search of the pile I had hidden my supplies in. My face lifted as I noticed the barrier I had made, glad that it was still intact. Emma crossed her arms against the cold. "Are you okay, kid?"

My head snapped her way as I twisted my ring. "Huh? Y-yeah, I'm alright. Could we go to the animal shelter? I've never been to one before."

She paused, rubbing my back in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture, but just made me stiffen uneasily. "Yeah, no problem. You'll probably like it. I know Henry does. My dad works there, too."

"Henry? Regina's son?" I repeated in confusion, following her back into the streets.

She made a strange noise, grimacing. "He's my biological son. He came and found me about four and a half months ago. Regina adopted him when I had to give him up. I was young when I had him." She explained guiltily as we walked. 'Adopted'?

Noticing how torn up she seemed and wanting the awkwardness gone, I nodded. "I haven't met him yet." Casting a glance back at the boat, I felt my hopes drowning in my fears. I was never going to get home, was I? "What kind of animals are there?"

"Loads!" Emma grinned, thankful I had left the subject alone. "Cats, and dogs, and rabbits. You can pet them and stuff. Henry spends the whole day there sometimes. He likes to read to them."

We made our way through town quickly. She had probably noticed how much it unnerved me. As we slipped inside, I glanced at the large clock tower in the center of town, building a mental map with it as my starting point.

* * *

 **A/N: I know, it's really short compared to my usual stuff, but I wanted to get it out as soon as possible so you all know what the frick frack is goin' on on my end of the interwebs. I hope you all like it, though! As for the 'four and a half months ago' bit, Jennifer Morrison said that it had been about four months since Emma got to Storybrooke by S2, and that every episode was about a day, so I'm going with that. I haven't written for this story in so long, so I'm trying to get back in the groove. Please leave a review so I can gage how I'm doing! Bluemoon, over and out~**


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